


Lay To Waste

by decompose, madokami



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Character Death, Multi, Time Skips, a lot of shady stuff happens, junko kinda runs a gang, kind of, probably other minor character appearances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decompose/pseuds/decompose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/madokami/pseuds/madokami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reality of death is not a pleasant one. The absence that follows is even less so. People don't just come back to life, no matter how long you wait. He hadn't looked back from the day they disappeared, but after a decade, they're back again. He isn't sure of the reasons why anymore, but he supposes those reasons aren't relevant once the dead come back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Okay, where do you see us in ten years?”

Hinata leans back in his seat, drumming his fingers on his thighs as he ponders an answer. He wonders whether or not he should make a sarcastic remark, claiming they'll all probably be drug dealers or hookers within the next decade. However, a part of him seriously considers the question, wondering if in ten years they'll even remember each other. He surely hopes so.

“Well?”

The pale boy sitting cross-legged on the floor leans towards him. Komaeda, albeit strange at times, is one whom Hinata would consider his best friend (even if some days he is embarrassed to admit it). The other kids at school hate him; constantly teasing him, at least, if they weren’t afraid of him. Being nearly six feet tall at the age of thirteen on top of possessing albinism seems to scare a lot of people away, despite the boy's futile efforts to make friends. 

“I...don't know.” Hinata says finally, looking down at his hands. 

“Fair enough.” Komaeda shrugs, the smile not leaving his lips. “How about you, Nanami-san?” 

Attention is turned towards the girl dozing off on the other side of the room. At the mention of her name, she jerks herself back to reality, blinking her eyes a few times as if to rid them of drowsiness. Nanami had always seemed to possess a talent for falling asleep, even in the most awkward of situations. Like Komaeda, though, she too was not extremely popular with the rest of the students. As long as Hinata had known her, she had always been slightly overweight, short, and not very good at conversing with others, which made her an easy target for bullies.

“Hm? Oh.” Nanami pauses to release a loud yawn, stretching her arms forward in the process. “Perhaps we'll all be married and living happily in dream houses on the beach, I hope.” 

Despite her statement, her voice sounds bored. It's not uncommon, though. Hinata found out the only way to get the blonde to sound excited is when you discuss her favorite video games, which ultimately neither him nor Komaeda honestly cared that much about.

“In my opinion,” Komaeda speaks up after a few seconds, “I believe we will all still be best friends, and we’ll all probably share a house and take turns making dinner for each other.”

“Really?” Hinata raises an eyebrow in response, resting his elbow against the polished wood of the desk, “I bet you can’t even cook.”

The other boy simply hums at that, tucking a few strands of pale hair behind his ear. They remain silent afterwards, with the only sound in the room being the ever present ticking of the clock on the wall. After a quick glance at the time, Hinata stands up with a stretch, wincing at the loud scrape the feet of his chair makes against the floor tiles.

“We should be getting home.” He says, resting somewhat awkwardly against the edge of the desk as he waits for his friends to follow suit. Komaeda is quick to his feet, though Nanami rises after a few moments hesitation.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter where time will lead us,” Komaeda says, as they walk through the door, “After all, we’re together now.”

Of course, he agrees, though he still wonders just what will happen to the three of them when they’re older. In the movies—the kinds he would deny watching if you asked, the group of friends seemed to always stay together in the end, though he supposes that was solely for a feeling of closure as the credits rolled, and not for the sake of being realistic. His life in general was far from anything that would make an interesting screenplay, though he’s glad for the simplicity.

Hinata’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name, coming to a standstill on the sidewalk. The other two are stopped shortly in front of him, and after a moment he realizes they’re at the intersection where Komaeda usually parts from them. The aforementioned boy is looking at him curiously, examining the fatigue that’s probably showing too visibly on his face.

“I’ll be going, then.” He says, throwing them both his usual smile and turning to cross the street.

Hinata nods simply, letting out a sigh as Nanami murmurs a goodbye and falls into step with him.

“You’re worried about something,” She says, though not expecting a detailed reply, “Or at least thinking.”

“Thinking’s what I’m good at, I guess.” He isn’t sure why the question had bothered him so much, though it probably wasn’t the question itself; he had always been worried about his future. “Do you want me to walk you the rest of the way home?”

“No, that’s fine.” Nanami pauses suddenly, leaving him a few steps ahead of her before he turns to look back. She looks somewhat scrutinizing as she watches him, tilting her head to the right and furrowing her eyebrows.

“I’m not sure what’s on your mind, but… you’re not the kind of person to let it get the best of you, right?”

He considers her words for a moment, finally consenting as she resumes their pace and walks next to him.

“I guess you’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nanami.”

///

“Have you heard anything from Nanami-san?” Komaeda asks, the usual curve to his lips replaced by a thin line. The girl had been absent for three days after they had walked home together, and both of them had tried multiple times to reach her with no response. It left him with a sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach, despite the voice of reason in his head telling him that she was fine.

“No, but I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon.” Hinata draws a breath as he leans against the wall, ignoring the glances of the other students while Komaeda studies him in the silent way he usually does.

“Perhaps she’s just sick… Say, Hinata-kun,” The white haired boy says, sounding somewhat distant, “You seem apprehensive.”

He closes his eyes, letting the background noise wash over him and leave him as just another figure in the crowd. They have a few more minutes until they would have to get to class, but part of him is itching to be early, if just to have a slightly quieter atmosphere.

“Can’t help it.” His voice comes out as a mumble, sounding weak and muted against the activity of everyone around them. “Don’t you feel it too? It’s not like her.”

“I suppose.” Is his reply, and with a groan Hinata pushes himself into a proper standing position, hoisting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Komaeda doesn’t seem to want to say anything else, content to fall behind his friend as he usually does when they weave through the crowded hall.

///

Of course, the day passes without much event, dragging the seconds out as they tick by on the clock. Hinata almost falls asleep twice in class, and by the time he’s headed out the main doors he’s glad for the dismissal. Komaeda doesn’t say much on the way home, quickly giving up on communicating with him once he stops replying coherently. Part of him feels bad for acting so aloof, but he doesn’t try any harder to respond differently. There is no tension between them, anyway.

His house is quiet when he unlocks the door and steps inside; of course, his parents wouldn’t be home this early. He lets out a sigh that echoes slightly in the empty space, and moves to throw his bag on the floor before splaying himself rather haphazardly across the couch. The armrest digs into his back as he grabs for the remote, though he pays it no mind as the screen flickers to life and a news broadcast begins playing.

Normally, he would change the channel after a few seconds spent watching the text cross the screen, but this time he stops, fingers faltering over the buttons on the remote. Briefly, a question forms in his mind, but is quickly discarded, replaced with a thousand tumbling thoughts that dull his senses and leave him strangely motionless. He barely registers what the reporter is saying as his hand shakes, and dimly he’s aware of the remote falling to the floor with a clatter.

Onscreen, displayed in a variation of colored pixels, is a simple picture of his friend; it almost looks like it could be her yearbook photo. It takes him a second to come to his senses and grab for the fallen remote to turn up the volume, though once the professional tone reaches his ears fully he wishes he hadn’t.

“Twenty seven hours ago, Nanami Chiaki was confirmed dead.”


	2. Un

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a tw for hanging in this chapter,

Ten Years Later

“You seem nervous.”

Hinata purses his lips, shifting in his seat to stare anxiously at the door behind him for what seems like the thousandth time that night. He shoves his hands in his coat pocket, hoping the boy beside him won't notice the way they tremble. His gut seems to be filled with feathers, and his heartbeat is quicker than he ever remembers it being.

“A little bit, yeah.”

The detective he's meeting with is a friend of Naegi's, a young woman who's praised for having solved several cases, even while still in college. He had talked to several detectives over the years, none of whom had actually helped him. The only difference between them and the woman he's meeting with today is simple: common interest.

“It's okay,” Naegi reaches his hand out as if to place it on Hinata's shoulder, however withdraws it back to rest at his side before continuing to speak. “She may seem really intimidating at first, but that's just because of her job. She's really nice once you get to know her, I promise.”

“It's not her I'm worried about.” Hinata says flatly.

From what he had heard, the woman in question has been as devoted to the case of his friends' death as he is, if not more. For the past few years, she had been taking drastic measures to find information, risking her career, even risking being arrested for the sake of solving the case. She knows things she's not supposed to know, and it's information he's anxious to get.

“You're afraid of hearing what you don't want to hear.” A feminine voice interrupts his thoughts, and he looks up to see a pale-haired woman in an expensive looking suit staring down at him with a calm expression. 

“I- I didn't see you come in.” He says stupidly, every greeting he had planned in advance leaving his mind.

“Kirigiri Kyouko, private investigator.” She ignores his statement, instead offering him a hand concealed by a black leather glove. 

They exchange an awkward handshake as he introduces himself, before she settles down behind the desk occupying the other half of the small room. Upon taking her seat, she produces a carton of cigarettes from her breast pocket and proceeds to place one of the thin white sticks between her lips. Hinata swears he had seen a 'No Smoking' sign outside of the building, but Kirigiri doesn't seem to care as she ignites the end and exhales a cloud of smoke. 

“Then, shall we begin?” At his slightly hesitant nod, she taps a finger against the desk and draws her gaze over his face. He frowns a bit, suddenly overly conscious of his impression. “For the sake of covering everything, the initial execution took place almost exactly ten years ago, or so I’ve heard.”

Hinata’s unsure if the statement is intended to be a joke, considering the woman had spent numerous nights pouring over the details she had been able to acquire, though he nods once more. “Yeah, I was fourteen back then.”

“And have you seen the footage, Hinata-kun?” She asks, taking another drag of her cigarette. The office is warm enough to be comfortable, though the smoke that escapes between her lips lingers for a few moments before fading into the air.

“No.” He lets out a small breath, trying to quell the oncoming nausea that rises in his stomach. The thought of actually witnessing the death of his friend, despite it being decade old footage, does not rest easy with him.

Kirigiri looks toward the shorter boy resting against the doorframe, tapping her finger quietly against the smooth surface. He seems to get the hint and gives a short glance to Hinata before turning to step out into the hallway, shutting the door with a dull click. With the door closed and what noise that might have come from the hallway sufficiently muted, the plastered walls seem even more enclosing, and he shifts in his seat somewhat uncomfortably.

The woman leans to produce a laptop from a formerly hidden briefcase resting against the desk, fingers flying across the keyboard after she places it against the surface of the wood. After a moment, she pauses to rest her hand against the lid, expression going stony. “What I am about to show you is confidential information. You have to swear not to tell anyone about it, or it could lead to problems for the both of us. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” He isn’t sure what he’s expecting; though he has a slight idea of what happened from the help he’s had before, any questions he had been meaning to ask die in his throat when the detective turns the laptop around, bringing the video file up and hitting play without a second look at him.

The video is dark, grainy, and unfocused, but he’s able to make out a figure resting in a simple wooden chair, almost completely still. He bites into his lip but stays focused on the screen, searching for any tiny detail that might help with Kirigiri’s investigation. He isn’t going to make the same mistake he made last time.

Nanami’s hands are presumably tied at the wrists, held behind her back, and he isn’t sure if she’s unconscious or ignoring those around her. The background is almost too dark to see, though in the distance what looks like a grated window lets in a small stream of light. With a start, he realizes there’s a noose wrapped loosely around her neck, held by an unseen figure that stands off screen.

"Is she—?" He starts, though Kirigiri silences him with a shake of her head. Onscreen, a slight movement of the camera can be seen, and then the noose tightens around Nanami’s neck, though she doesn’t try to fight against it. It pulls tighter and tighter, and then as the nausea threatens to send him from the room, the footage cuts out abruptly.

Hinata doesn’t say anything as he recovers, instead sitting with his hands on his lap as the woman across from him turns the laptop back to face the opposite wall. He’s aware of Kirigiri studying his reaction, waiting for the right moment to continue.

“How did you get this?” He says finally, though he only receives the smallest hints of a shrug in response. He doesn’t press the matter, however, not really caring about how she had gotten the file. Running his hand through his hair, he casts a glance up at the clock mounted on the wall above. 7:43PM.

“Do you remember what happened after that, Hinata-kun?” Kirigiri asks as she leans forward, cigarette still clasped between her fingers. “Two years after, that is.”

“Do you mean the Kuzuryuu incident?” Exactly two years after Nanami’s apparent execution, there had been reports of a murder taking place in a similar fashion. The victim had been the youngest child and sister to the heir of the Kuzuryuu family. Because of the family’s status and the situation coincidences, there had been talk for months afterward, though the police had never found anything. “Or what happened with Komaeda?”

At Kirigiri’s pressing expression, he sighs, resting his chin on his elbow and closing his eyes. “Give me a minute.”

///

The sky is overcast as he walks down the street, threatening for the dark gray clouds above to suddenly drench him at any moment, though he pays the weather no mind as he nears his destination. It doesn’t take long for him to spot the familiar head of white hair among the few people that dare remain outside, and soon he’s standing in front of his friend as the rumble of thunder sounds in the distance.

“Why did you call me out here when it’s about to rain, anyway?” He says, somewhat irritably. Komaeda doesn’t look up at him at first, but when he does Hinata can easily see the worry that laces his face. He raises an eyebrow, taking a seat next to the other on the uncomfortable park bench.

“Is this about everything that’s happened?” He asks, and the white haired boy nods, casting a glance around them.

“You said it before, Hinata-kun. Something isn’t right with the situation.” His voice is quiet despite the wind blowing over the land, as if he’s afraid someone might be listening in, though their voices shouldn’t carry to anyone near them.

“That was… A while ago.” He heaves a sigh as Komaeda draws his slender legs to his chest, staring off into the distance. The other doesn’t seem satisfied with his response.

“Not much has changed since then.” Hinata moves to rest his hand against his friend’s knee, not sure of the point Komaeda is trying to make, besides bringing up old memories. “Can’t you tell? There are too many similarities for this to be a coincidence, too much silence. They stopped looking so quickly.”

“You think the police are scared?” He asks, craning his head to look at the sky above them. It’s forebodingly dark, though on a normal sunny day there would be enough light to give him a headache. The wind carries the scent of rain, and though he didn’t pay attention to it before, he isn’t too keen on sitting out in the park if it’s going to storm.

“No,” Komaeda says, absentmindedly toying with the hem of his pants, “I think there’s something off about the whole thing. If this was a normal case, they would’ve caught the culprit by now.”

Hinata shrugs at his words, unsure of whether to agree with him or not. Komaeda was known to be slightly paranoid, but he had a good point. “So, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I’m not sure, to be completely honest…” He reaches up to brush a lock of hair out of his face after trailing off, looking strangely lost—yet still determined. “I suppose I just wanted you to listen.”

A loud crack of thunder overhead causes them both to jump, and within a few seconds Hinata feels cold droplets of rain falling on his skin. He stands up while simultaneously pulling on Komaeda’s arm, knowing that his house was a closer refuge from the oncoming downpour. The other boy doesn’t seem bothered by the fact, though he shivers at the cold air.

“Whatever it is you plan on doing,” Hinata says, as they make their way down the street under the safety of awnings from the stray shops that litter the road, “Don’t get yourself involved in anything dangerous.”

He never had expected Komaeda to take his words to heart, though he had hoped otherwise. The boy had a habit of getting pulled into dangerous situations, whether by choice or coincidence, and after Nanami had been murdered with no resolution to the mystery of why, he didn’t think his friend would let it rest.

Just as he had predicted, Komaeda’s presence around him slowly dissipates as the week draws on, and what little time they do share together never lasts long. The white haired boy seems constantly distracted, often unintentionally ignoring him or outright disregarding his thoughts entirely. He isn’t sure of the reasons behind the sudden change in personality, though he knows it has something to do with what Komaeda had said before. It worries him, makes him feel sick every time his friend avoids his gaze, but he knows he can’t stop him from trying to get information.

It isn’t until another week passes that Hinata finally decides he’s had enough with the silence, and resolves himself to at least find out what Komaeda had learned. The weather outside is still cold and wet, no doubt a remnant from the frequent storms they had been getting. The rain beats down against the roof outside as he curls up on his bed, phone held against his ear as it rings. He was sure Komaeda wouldn’t ignore him if he called, at least; and finally, after the fifth ring he picks up.

“Hinata-kun,” He says, in a flat voice, “You really shouldn’t be calling me.”

“What is it with you?” Hinata lets out a breath before continuing, trying to sort out his thoughts before he says anything he’ll regret. “I know something’s up, and it’s obviously bothering you. Why can’t you just tell me? Why are you avoiding me?”

He receives only silence in response, and though he bites his lip he doesn’t say anything else as he waits for the other to reply. It stretches on for so long he almost thinks Komaeda hung up on him, but then he hears a faint sigh come from the other end.

“It’s not something either of us should get involved in. I haven’t been searching as much you think.” It’s quite obviously a lie, judging from the tone of his voice, but Hinata doesn’t call him on it. “Listen, since you took the trouble of contacting me, I will tell you this.”

There’s another short bout of silence between them, though he’s sure his heart is beating so loud the microphone might pick it up. When Komaeda’s voice does reach his ears again, it sounds even more dismal than before.

“I’m tired of this. Hinata-kun, will you promise me something?”

“What is it?” He asks, voice sounding slightly strained.

“Don’t look for me. Don’t try to find out about anything you shouldn’t. I know you’re not the type of person to agree with what I’m saying, but please. Forget about me. Maybe we’ll be able to see each other again someday.”

The call cuts off with a click, leaving Hinata to rest the phone on his bed, processing what he had just heard. He trembles slightly, unsure of whether to dial back or run from his house straight to his friend’s, if just to make sure he was alright.

“Idiot,” He groans out, moving from his position to hastily grab his coat and throw it on.

///

“He was gone by the time I got there,” Hinata finishes, index finger tapping against his thigh, “There wasn’t anything left; no records, nothing. I don’t know how he did it. Apparently the government found his… remains a few months later.”

Kirigiri nods slightly, mind surely working over the information he’s provided her with. “Did they ever mention anything to you?” She asks finally, lacing her hands together.

“No.” He replies with a shrug, at which her expression changes slightly. He swears he can see the hint of a smile playing at her lips, though he isn’t sure why. “But even if they had, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

The detective leans back in her seat, examining him just as she had been the whole time. She’s good at reading him, and though he doesn’t find her presence distasteful, it does make him feel more vulnerable than he would like.

“It seems to me they just wanted to please the public.” She says, before turning to glance at the clock behind her. “You look tired. Perhaps we should meet another time.”

At the mention of his appearance, he has to fight back a yawn, suddenly made aware of how weary he feels. Hinata pushes back his chair and stands with an uncomfortable stretch, reaching to shake the woman’s hand for the second time that night.

“Thanks for your time.” He says, turning to open the door, but pausing at an afterthought. “If you don’t mind me asking, what makes you so interested in this case? You’re the first person I’ve met who kept their resolve after all these years.”

Kirigiri doesn’t seem bothered by his question, merely replacing her laptop back in its case. He almost wonders if she’s ignoring him, but then she stands up fully and looks at him again.

“Determination to find out exactly what happened that lead to four different people ending up dead, I suppose.” He wonders what she means by four people, seeing as the case involved only three, but there’s something in her expression that keeps him from asking. “And from what I’ve gathered, I think there might be a chance of at least one of your friends being alive.”

///

“So what’d she say?” Naegi asks, as they make their way across the parking lot. It’s completely dark now, the only light coming from a broken down streetlight on the corner.

“She’s different, I’ll give you that.” He replies, still not sure what to think about the possibility of Nanami or Komaeda being alive. Of course, he had thought about it before, but there was never enough evidence to confirm it. “She said they might not even be dead.”

“Really? It wouldn’t surprise me. Kirigiri-san is really good at proving things you’d think were impossible.” The boy smiles as he walks, reaching to pull the hood of his jacket over his head. “She’s much better than I could ever hope to be, anyway.”

He simply nods in response, knowing Naegi isn’t looking at him but too preoccupied to carry on the conversation anyway. The shorter boy doesn’t seem to mind, however, thankfully leaving Hinata to his thoughts and the sound of their feet on the pavement.

It isn’t until they finally get to his car that he turns to face the student, leaning against the door when Naegi pauses to look at him. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

“Of course, Hinata-kun.” He inclines his head, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I hope this whole thing will be able to turn something up, at least. I’ll see you around.”

Hinata mumbles a reply as the other jogs to his own vehicle, eager to get out of the cold. It probably would be better to be curled up at home, but after the meeting with Kirigiri he doesn’t feel like returning to the same quiet as usual. He lets out a long sigh, running his hand through his unruly hair as he unlocks his car door and slips into the driver’s seat. The nearest motel was just a few blocks away, and he’d rather spend the money on a cheap room for the night than return to his own bed, where he’s sure he’d only have the same nightmares as usual.


	3. Deux

Hinata’s house is eerily quiet as he steps from his bedroom, eyes adjusting to the darkness that permeates the walls. The only sound that reaches his ears is his own breathing, and where there should be the sound of the occasional passing car there’s nothing. Not even the streetlights outside are lit, he notices, as he feels along the wall for the light switch.

Eventually, his fingers find it and the hallway is bathed in light, though it’s barely bright enough to chase away the shadows that cling to the corners. He brings his hand to his mouth, suddenly uncertain about continuing into the living room. The stagnant air carries a faint scent of iron, which only gets stronger as he takes another step.

In the back of his mind, he already knows what will be waiting for him in his living room; he’s seen it all before. However, it doesn’t stop him from taking a deep breath of the iron-scented air and continuing on, mouth pressed into a thin line. His breath hitches as he advances, willing himself to look away, to turn and forget about the whole scene entirely, but his body locks up at the sight in front of him.

Slumped against the hardwood flooring are the bodies of his two friends, their faces hidden and their blood spilling freshly from their veins. Hinata sucks in a breath, his footsteps echoing loudly as he comes to rest in front of them. Komaeda, with his fingers splayed against the dark wood, and Nanami, with her leg bent at too awkward of an angle to be natural.

For what seems like an eternity, he waits, heartbeat sluggish in his chest as he sinks to his knees and stains his bare skin with their blood. He hardly even feels it as he watches for any sign of movement, too afraid of what might happen if he were to reach out and touch them. He isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, because people don’t move once they’re dead, and though he sits as still as them in the dim, flickering light nothing would be able to change that fact.

“I’m sorry…”

The vision fades out suddenly as he wakes with a gasp, the unspoken words still caught in his throat. It takes a moment for him to come to his senses and sit up with an irritated groan directed at his phone, which had been buzzing loudly against his chest. He casts a glance at a number he doesn’t recognize before bringing it to his ear, uttering a simple, “Hello?” and leaning back against the armrest of the couch as he waits for a reply.

“Hinata-kun?” Comes the all too familiar voice, breathless and rushed. “Please tell me it's you.”

 _You've got to be fucking kidding me,_ he thinks. There is no way in hell the voice belongs to who he thinks it does. Either he's losing his mind, or somebody has a really sick sense of humor. He exhales heavily before responding.

“Who is this?” 

There's a drawn out silence, so long he begins to think that the caller had already given up the prank. Just as he is about to pull the phone away from his ear and end the call, he hears the person on the other end of the line release a shaky sigh.

“You know who this is.” The voice says, exhausted. “Hinata-kun, please, I know how this sounds, but-”

“Do you think this is funny?” Hinata almost yells, sitting up on the couch. His free hand flies to his head, fingers scratching through his short hair in a frustrated manor. God, it's too early for this shit.

“Look, this line isn't safe.” The voice sounds even more hurried, scared. “I'll be there in half an hour.”

Hinata quickly pulls his phone away from his ear, checking the time displayed on the corner of the screen. It's ten minutes to three in the morning.

By the time he puts the phone back to his ear, the call has already ended. With another sigh, he lifts himself from the couch and walks hesitantly to the window. He wonders for a moment if it would be worth it to call the police, but he decides he's just going to wait it out. The streets are empty, and he's sure they'll stay that way, but he can't help the itching anxiety that tells him otherwise. 

He isn’t sure how many minutes pass before he returns to his position on the couch, absentmindedly grabbing for the remote and turning to a channel he doesn’t bother paying attention to. The sounds coming from the screen sound far away, as if he were in another room entirely. He lets the bright colors lull him back into a state of calm as the seconds tick by, though even as he relaxes his heart still pounds against his chest.

Once it reaches half past three, Hinata is deeply regretting even answering the phone, and as he sits with his hands clasped in his lap he knows he should just give up on the whole thing and go back to bed, yet something keeps him seated. Doing his best to focus on the movie currently playing, he lets out a small groan, unable to keep his gaze from falling back to the window across the room.

When the knock finally does arrive on his door, it’s louder than he had expected, causing him to rise with a jump and a long pause spent with his feet rooted to the ground, considering if it were an option to pretend he hadn’t heard. But he knows if he walks away now he would never be satisfied, and so he proceeds toward the door, hand hovering over the metal of the doorknob before he finally swallows his doubt as best he can and pulls it open.

Hinata isn’t sure what he feels first, though his heart is a mess of emotions as the cold night air blows against his bare arms. Komaeda’s changed, but it’s definitely him; he isn’t much taller than he had been all those years ago, and his pale hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail. He looks tired, yet there’s a relaxed smile on his face, and he breathes a sigh of relief at Hinata’s appearance.

“I’m sorry for this,” Is the first thing Komaeda says to him—face to face, he can easily see the exhaustion in his expression and the way he stands, shivering against the chill that Hinata can barely feel now.

The man exhales as he steps forward suddenly, reaching to bring him into an awkward but heartfelt hug. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him the whole situation was off, his arms easily wrap around the other’s waist, pulling him close against his chest as he receives a small exhale in response.

The closeness doesn’t last long, because once Komaeda grows restless in his arms he’s reminded of where they are, and when he draws back to look him in the eyes the sense of recognition he had felt before is long gone. Replaced by confusion and the ever present feeling of anxiety, he can only stare forward, at a loss for words even though there are so many questions he wants to ask.

“May I come in?” The man seems nervous, as if Hinata might suddenly turn on him, though he only nods numbly and moves aside to let his friend slip past him.

Leaning against the wall, he watches as Komaeda stands awkwardly in his living room, glancing at the corners of the room as he examines the space around them. His fingers pull at the hem of his jacket as their eyes meet, but he quickly looks at the floor when Hinata doesn’t look away.

“Why are you here?” He asks finally, voice sounding slightly hoarse.

“I wanted to see you.” Komaeda responds, still staring at the floor. He seems out of place here, something so distinct from the everyday flow of Hinata’s life. Of course, he was, and had been for about eight years, and to see the man suddenly standing in his living room—alive, just as Kirigiri had said, was not an easy fact to take. “You see, I saw you yesterday; from a distance, that is, and—“

“No, I mean… _How_ are you here?” He cuts off Komaeda’s ramblings as he brings a hand to his forehead, unsettling a few strands of hair as he thinks on how to continue. As the two of them stand in silence, he only grows more aware of how tired he really is.

“You’re angry with me.” Is the reply he gets, as the white haired man purses his lips into a thin line, just as he used to before. “Why?”

“Do I have a reason not to be? You left without telling me what was even going on; you expected me to just forget about everything. Jesus Christ, Komaeda, they found your remains! I thought you were dead!” He forces himself to pause as his tone gradually grows more resentful, though as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks over the other’s appearance once more a strong sense of bitterness washes over him. 

If Komaeda is affronted by his sudden outburst, he doesn’t show it, but it’s obvious by the look on his face that he’s uncomfortable. “I know you want answers right now, Hinata-kun,” He says, reaching up to pull on the stud in his ear, “And I apologize for disturbing you only to deny you what you want, but I don’t think I can explain why I’m here just yet.”

“Why?” Hinata retorts, tilting his head back against the wall as he digs his nails against his arm. “After eight years, you show up at my house in the middle of the night, and won’t even tell me anything. It’s unbelievable.”

“I’m not sure where to begin.” The other admits, shifting on his feet, unsure of where to keep his eye contact. “It was selfish of me, to come to you now. But there’s someone I know that I think you should hear from before I tell you anything.”

_This is ridiculous, _he thinks, yet something stops him from pressing the matter. Komaeda was stubborn; if he really thought it was better to wait before telling him what had happened, he wouldn’t say anything no matter how hard Hinata tried. “At least tell me where you were, or why you were confirmed dead when you’re standing here right now.”__

__“I never stayed in one place for long.” Komaeda responds, shrugging. “And to be honest, I’m not sure… I never would have supposed they wanted to close the case that much.” Judging from the hint of remorse that creeps into his voice, it’s apparent that he isn’t satisfied with the situation at hand, but he doesn’t comment further on it._ _

__“Fine. Stay here, I guess. I’m going to bed.” The white haired man makes a small noise in his throat as Hinata shakes his head and moves to retreat down the hall, though he stays rooted to the same spot he had been the entire time. “I want answers by tomorrow.”_ _

____

///

Despite the amount of time that drags on before Hinata finally falls asleep, when he does wake up the sun is already high in the sky, casting pale light through the window and across his face. After an uncomfortable stretch, the events of the night before suddenly run through his mind, yet even as he casts a glance toward his bedroom door he doesn’t bother getting up to check on Komaeda. 

He continues to lay in his bed for a few more minutes, staring up at the stark white ceiling as he contemplates how to go about his situation. He plays out a few scenarios in his mind; politely asking the other man to explain what's going on, angrily forcing him to leave the house and to never show his face again, walking out into the living room only to find that the man was never there in the first place. He releases a sigh, his hand finding his forehead as he rubs it in a frustrated manner. Either way, there isn't an easy way to go about it.

Finally, he musters the strength to swing his legs over the side of the bed, his toes curling at the sudden contact with the cold floor. He lazily moves to his dresser to gather a change of clothes, slinging them over his arm before hesitantly walking to the door. His hand hovers above the doorknob for a few seconds until he finally cracks it open, peering out into the empty hallway. It's stupid, he thinks, that he should be this anxious in his own home.

From what he can see of his living room, Komaeda seems to be asleep, though he doesn’t stop to confirm the fact. He moves as quickly and quietly as he can across the hall to his bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a click. The slight glimpse he catches of his reflection in the mirror makes him pause as he lifts his shirt over his head; for all things considered, it wouldn’t be too far off to guess he had been hit by a truck. He certainly feels like it as he finishes undressing and turns to adjust the temperature of the water, fingers slipping against the cold metal of the faucet.

Hinata keeps the spray hot enough that it nearly burns on his skin, pulling him from the haze that had seemed to surround him ever since the night before. He stands underneath the showerhead for what feels like hours on end, letting the rivulets run down his back as he considers what he’ll do when he finally finishes showering. It isn’t until the water runs cold against him that he moves to quickly wash before it drops to an uncomfortable level, but his movements still feel sluggish.

The cool air that hits his skin once he steps out makes him shiver as he grabs for a towel, throwing it over his arm as he pauses to look at the foggy mirror once more. He looks somewhat more presentable after showering, but there are still dark circles under his eyes and an ever present frown on his lips. He traces over the lines of ink on his arm as he runs his hand through his hair, following the patterns up to where they stop on his chest, spelling out the dates of his friends’ supposed deaths in a looping scrawl. It was stupid, getting the tattoos as soon as he had turned eighteen, yet even now he doesn’t regret the action.

In a few minutes, he’s dressed and back out in the hall, eyes kept to the hardwood flooring as he progresses into the living room. He had hoped Komaeda would wake up during the time it had taken him to get ready, but the pale figure is curled up on his couch with the slight rise and fall of his chest being the only sign of movement. He looks troubled enough that Hinata considers just letting him sleep, though after a moment’s pause he steps forward to place a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Hey.” He says, as Komaeda opens his eyes and stares up at him blearily. He seems confused as to where he is for a few seconds, but then recognition flashes across his face and he sits up with a rushed apology and a wave of his hand.

“Hinata-kun. Have you been awake long?” In response to the question, Hinata merely shrugs, as his hair’s still damp and he hasn’t been keeping track of time.

“So, it’s tomorrow. You said knew… someone.” Is what he says instead, as he hadn’t been thinking rationally enough to wonder about what Komaeda had said before, though once it’s out of his mouth it only forms more questions.

“Right, then, I suppose you want to get going?” Komaeda waves his hand again as he opens his mouth to interrupt, effectively silencing him. “It’s not far; I can tell you where to go.”

The white haired man stands up with a stretch, causing his shirt to ride up his waist ever so slightly. He’s quick to push it back down, but Hinata doesn’t miss the scar—running along the side of his ribs, barely noticeable against the pale tone of his skin, but there nonetheless, jagged and angry in contrast to the curves of his body. He doesn’t bother commenting on it.

Komaeda stays silent while he grabs his jacket and keys, only speaking up again when Hinata finally settles into the driver’s seat of his car and starts the engine. He doesn’t offer much besides the few short comments on which roads and turns to take, though Hinata doesn’t try getting him to say more, as he knows it’ll only lead to more discomfort between them.

True to his word, it doesn’t take long for them to reach their destination: a shabby looking apartment complex in what has to be the sketchiest area of town. Hinata finds a parking space away from the other cars, a spot in the far corner of the lot littered with dead leaves and a few pieces of trash. He releases a heavy, nervous sigh after he turns off the car, slumping back in the seat and throwing a glance towards his companion. Komaeda seems just as nervous as he is, staring at his lap and playing with his thumbs.

“Are you ready?” Hinata asks, even though it would make more sense for Komaeda to be asking the question instead. He wonders briefly if he's ready himself. It's a lot to take in, and he's not sure he wants to hear it all at once.

Not waiting for the other man to reply, he opens the car door and steps out, the dead leaves crunching underneath his shoes. He slams the door shut and begins the walk towards the building, looking over his shoulder to see Komaeda walking quickly to keep up with his pace. He stops in his tracks, allowing the other man to get in front of him so he can lead the way. Thankfully, the complex only has one floor, and Komaeda's apartment just so happens to be only a few feet away from where Hinata had parked.

“Well,” Komaeda says, fishing a key from his pants pocket and pressing it into the lock, “I apologize, but our home is nowhere near as nice as yours.” 

The inside of Komaeda's apartment is as plain as it can be. The walls are completely empty, the white paint peeling in some places. The carpet is stained, and the only furniture he can see is a single loveseat, riddled with cigarette burns and small tears, and a small coffee table. As Komaeda closes the door, Hinata realizes just how cold the apartment is. He wonders how he and his friend are able to live in such a place.

“Uh, make yourself comfortable.” Komaeda smiles awkwardly, toying with the stud in his ear again. “She's probably still asleep. I'll go wake her up.”

Hinata settles down onto the loveseat as Komaeda disappears into a small hallway. He reaches for his pocket, searching for his phone only to find that he had left it at home. Exhaling, he leans back against the uncomfortable cushion, absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt as he waits for the other man to return. 

“Hinata-kun?”

At the sound of his name he looks over, and he's unable to stop the smile that spreads across his lips. There stands the girl he had thought dead for the past ten years, arms behind her head in an awkward stretch as she releases a loud yawn. She's quite different than she was when she was thirteen, a little bit taller, definitely thinned out some but still curvy. Her hair is longer than he remembers it being, pulled into low twin tails that had obviously been slept on, and pink.

“Nanami...” He breathes, standing up and reaching out to touch her shoulder, testing to see if she's not just his imagination. She smiles back at him sleepily as he pulls her into a hug, still unable to comprehend that this is happening. They stay like that for a few more seconds until he breaks the embrace, stepping back to look at her again. “Your hair is pink.”

“Hm? Oh, right.” She mumbles, examining a strand of her hair as if she'd never seen it before. “It was Komaeda-kun's idea. He said it would make me less recognizable... or something like that.” 

“Huh. It appears that Nanami-san got a much warmer welcome than I did,” Komaeda says, Hinata not realizing that the man had been standing in the hallway the entire time. Despite his words, a small smile is placed upon his lips. “I see how it is.”

Komaeda's expression quickly turns grim as he crosses the room to rest against the coffee table, hands placed levelly on the dark wood. “I’m sure you’re more than anxious to know everything that’s happened to us by now, Hinata-kun.” The man casts a glance toward the pink haired girl as he speaks, but his gaze soon travels back to Hinata. He can only stare back wordlessly, as already the idea that his unresolved questions will soon be answered causes a heavy weight to settle in his chest.

Nanami moves to sit on the cushion next to where he had been previously, and even though she seems the most relaxed out of them there’s still something dark in her expression; no doubt she isn’t enjoying bringing up the memories best left untouched. He doesn’t like seeing the two so solemn, but the fact remains that up until now he had assumed them dead, and now that he’s standing with them again doesn’t change the fact that they might as well be different people entirely.

“So, I should probably start from the beginning, then…” The girl breathes out a soft sigh before continuing, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she stares at the wall opposite to them. “Well, for starters, I don’t think they wanted me dead. At least not right away.”

“They?” Hinata inclines his head towards her, still standing where he had gotten up to greet her for the first time. “Who do you mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Nanami replies, shrugging. “There was more than one person, but I don’t remember many of their faces. I was blindfolded most of the time, anyway.” There’s a slight hint of spite in her voice, something that he wouldn’t normally associate with the girl, though with all things considered he’s surprised she manages to speak so calmly about it.

“I ended up passing out after the execution, and when I woke up I was being guided to safety. Everything was dark; I don’t remember it well… I’m sorry.” She clasps her hands in her lap as he finally sits back next to her, wanting to comfort her in some way but unsure how. “Whoever it was had her face covered and didn’t say much more than a few words, but she led me outside and told me to stay hidden, and that I was on my own.”

“And you trusted her?” He says, craning his neck to study her expression closely. It’s hard to believe this is the girl he had always stayed up late with, playing different games until dawn broke over the horizon. They had always gone to school the next day weary and distracted, and despite Komaeda’s repeated lectures it was a habit that was hard to break.

“What else could I have done? It probably saved my life.” True, the girl that answers him now is still the same person she had been all the way back then—as is the other man resting quietly against the table, but there’s something about them that sets him on edge the longer he stays around them. Shrugging again, Nanami throws him an apologetic glance, seemingly sensing his uncertainty.

“I know this isn’t easy to take in. But, as for what happened after that—I waited. For a long time, and then I ran.” She pauses for a second, pulling on the string of her hoodie. “After that, I was basically homeless for a while. I don’t know how I managed to survive, but I did.”

“Okay,” Hinata says, looking from the girl next to him to Komaeda, “So, what about you?”

“Ah, well, there isn’t really much to say.” The white haired man squirms underneath his gaze, casting a look towards Nanami. She doesn’t seem like she wants to say anymore, so he dips his head and clears his throat before continuing.

“Nanami-san contacted me after the Kuzuryuu incident, actually. She needed help, and had a feeling I was… interested in finding out the truth behind what had been happening. So, I took what I had out of my savings account and left. It wasn’t long until we moved out of the country.”

Hinata raises his eyebrows, tilting his head and pursing his lips. He had a feeling that Komaeda was leaving something out of his brief explanation, but he wasn’t sure quite what. Combined with the fact that apparently they had thought it better to never let him know anything until now, he doesn’t feel like questioning it further, sure that he’ll only receive another meager response.

“Where? And how long?”

“France,” Nanami answers him now, her voice quiet. “I used to have relatives living there. And we had been there until just a few months ago.”

He supposes now that she had confirmed it, he could hear a slight difference to how they formed their words. It wasn’t very noticeable—just like everything about them, but still, their voices had a slightly foreign lilt to them.

“And what made you come back?” He’s curious now, his mind reeling with more questions to ask, though neither of them seem overly keen on answering all of his inquiries.

“Mostly, it was because of you. Or, I guess it was just that we kept an eye on things that happened around here.”

“So, that’s the base of it, huh.” At the small nod he receives from the both of them, he lets out a breath, unsure of how to process the information. On one hand, the details they had spared him only leave him with more curiosity, but on the other, he supposes it’s best to ask them at a later point. “Okay.”

Komaeda jumps from his position on the table suddenly, bouncing on the balls of his feet when none of them say anything. “Is there something else you wanted to know about, Hinata-kun?”

At Hinata’s somewhat rushed response, the white haired man simply nods, bringing his arm up to tap a finger against his lips, seemingly caught between saying something and staying silent. After a moment, he lets his arm fall back down to his side, though he still seems hesitant.

“It’s good to see you again,” He says finally, as Nanami turns to throw a smile in his direction. He feels more relaxed around the two of them now that they're more than ghosts conjured up to make him question his sanity, but their presence is still odd, in a shaky, diffident way. 

“Y-yeah. I’m glad you’re back.”


	4. Trois

“You look good.”

Hinata knows the words are an awkward venture, but the past thirty minutes have been nothing short of such. Getting used to the fact that his friends had been dead for about a decade and then suddenly they weren’t he was capable of, but pretending that nothing between them had changed was something he had been unable to do from the start.

Komaeda sits across from him now, not turning away from his stare but not replying to much of anything that he says. If he hadn’t known the man better, Hinata might have said he was annoyed, but then, how much _did_ he know about anyone anymore?

“I hadn’t noticed how much you had changed, what with… you know. Other distractions.” He bites his lip as he speaks, but doesn’t stop himself from speaking, as after a few days with nothing but varied amounts of silence from the two, he’s eager for any sort of conversation. It had been Komaeda’s request to see him alone, anyway.

Komaeda doesn’t reply at first, too busy focusing on some sugary drink that had been sitting in front of him for the past five minutes. He had only hurriedly ordered it after the waitress had returned to their table for the third time blatantly stating that ‘if they didn’t order anything, they should leave.’

“How can you even drink that stuff?” Hinata tries again after the murmured acceptance of his previous compliment, not bothering to focus on the distance of his companion. By now, even if it was somewhat aggravating, he was used to it.

“Mm. I like it,” Komaeda says finally, looking at him as if this fact should have been clear from the start. The utter sincerity with which he speaks draws out a light laugh from Hinata’s lips, but with the look he receives in response he’s quick to silence it.

“So, what about you?” Komaeda asks, his gaze curiously wandering to Hinata’s arm before he turns back to look up at him directly. Even as Komaeda flashes him the beginning of that same relaxed smile, he finds himself tugging awkwardly on the collar of his shirt as he struggles to find his answer.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me,” Komaeda says quickly when he notices Hinata’s hesitation, maintaining his smile even as his shoulders slump in what the older can only assume is disappointment.

“No, that’s not it,” he says with a short sigh, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the tabletop. “There isn’t really much of a story. I’ve just… existed, I guess. I’m not worse off.”

Something in Komaeda’s expression changes, but in another moment it’s gone again, and the only thought that enters his mind is, _Stop hiding from me._

“Listen,” he says instead, aware of how fidgety he’s acting as he leans to rub the back of his neck.

The white haired man’s attention is mostly fixed on his drink again, but he does pause from swirling the ice around the glass with the straw to look up at him, waiting for him to speak. Hinata finds his throat feeling more parched the longer that gaze stays on him, and by now he wishes he had ordered something himself. “About a month ago, give or take, I started talking to a detective. About you two.”

If Komaeda is surprised or at all bothered by this information, he doesn’t show it much, though his lips press together into a thin line. “I supposed you would,” is all he says.

“Yeah, I guess we’ve had bigger surprises,” he replies, cracking a bitter smile. “But the fact still remains that something between me getting information and you suddenly showing up out of nothing doesn’t add up. This detective, she… She’s been the first in a long time to say something different.”

Komaeda doesn’t seem to be ignoring him, but still he turns away to stare out the window with a slight exhale. Hinata doesn’t try and prod him again, sensing the reluctance radiating off of him.

“What is it?” he finally asks, after watching his companion track the freshly falling snow for about a minute.

“I just don’t know what you want,” Komaeda replies quietly. “You’re acting like you expect a big revelation, something bigger than what I already told you, but that’s just it. I don’t have anything else.”

“That’s not what I-“ At the shake of the head he receives, he quiets with a huff, as the only thing he’s wanted this entire time was to hear what Komaeda had to say.

“Nearly everything I’ve done so far has been out of fear. It wasn’t out of certainty. Not even coming to you was; honestly, that was the biggest gamble of them all!”

Komaeda brings a hand to his forehead, ignoring the few looks thrown in their direction from the small population of the restaurant. “I never stopped thinking of you. I still do, even now. But I don’t think I can help you find the answers you want.”

“Komaeda, you…” Hinata trails off, because he hates seeing that miserable look on the other’s face, because this entire meeting has been nothing but a trail of mood swings and he’s never been sure what to think since this whole thing started. “You can’t let this take hold of you.”

Komaeda lets out a harsh, dry laugh, looking back up at him as he lets his arm fall. “Really? What else am I going to do? This is the only foundation I have. My fear kept me alive.”

“But what if it didn’t?” Hinata asks, even though he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. “What if the reason you’ve been living your whole life in the dark is because you didn’t try? We both made our own choices, and if anything happens now, it won’t happen because of something that did eight years ago.”

Komaeda narrows his eyes but doesn’t retort, and the irritation that filled Hinata’s head is gone as quickly as it came.

“Something tells me you have even less of an idea about what to think,” he says, slowly.

“You’re probably right.” Hinata stands with a sigh, looking towards the exit as he does so. The snowfall seems to have only gotten heavier, though it isn’t anything to worry about just yet. “We should probably get going. And before you argue, yes, I’m paying.”

///

Nanami is waiting for them when they walk in the door, sprawled out over the loveseat with a phone in her hand. She’s lazily touching the screen, controlling her character with ease while soft music streams from the device. “I take it you two had fun?”

“It was alright,” Hinata says, glancing in Komaeda’s direction as the other boy grins rather sheepishly, and despite himself smiles too. “Sorry for leaving you behind.”

“I don’t mind,” Nanami replies, sitting up to make room for them on the small couch while still tapping on the screen. “I’m sure you two needed time to catch up more.”

When Hinata remains awkwardly standing by the door instead of moving forward, Komaeda takes the proffered seat, throwing a thinly veiled look of embarrassment at Nanami as he does so. If she notices, she doesn’t seem to care.

He tucks his hands in his pockets as he curiously leans forward to inspect the game the pink haired girl plays, watching as she moves her character around some bright and open world. “Is that a new model? It looks nice.”

“Not the newest,” she answers, shifting further back and placing her legs comfortably across Komaeda’s lap while the background music continues to quietly play. The white haired man whines at the action, halfheartedly trying to move her. “Still, balancing as many shifts as you can pays off.”

When he raises an eyebrow, Komaeda looks back at him while twirling a few locks of hair around his fingertip, having given up trying to remove the girl’s legs from his lap. “Not since we moved here. If you were wondering why we have so much free time.”

“He,” Nanami points a finger in Komaeda’s general direction as she speaks, all the while not looking up from the screen, “Bartends. And I do what I can. It’s enough to pay the rent.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Hinata mumbles, looking around the small apartment. It was still the same worn down, cold and bare area he had seen before, but it was strange to think that this was their permanent situation while he had been living comfortably.

_Has it always been like this?_ He wants to ask, but instead he looks back at them while he hooks the ring of his keys around his finger, jingling them absentmindedly in his pocket as he makes up his mind. “This is short notice, but, why don’t you two stay at my place tonight? I mean, I'm not doing anything for a few more days, and it'll be nice to just spend time together.” 

Nanami gazes at him curiously as he dips his head, scratching at the back of his neck. “Okay,” she responds, looking more than content with the idea.

“If you’re fine with it…” Komaeda trails off as he looks in the other direction, before hastily standing up and turning to disappear down the hallway. “I should—“

Hinata stops him with one step forward and a hand on his shoulder, easily taking the man from his thoughts with the contact. “Komaeda. Just don’t worry about anything for tonight, for me?”

He lets his arm fall when Komaeda’s expression softens, seemingly relaxing some as he laces his fingers together. “…Alright, Hinata-kun.”

“It’ll be fun,” Nanami says, lifting her arms over her head in a stretch as she too rises from her position. In another moment she taps something on the screen and then holds out her phone for the white haired man to take, grabbing a hair tie from around her wrist after he does. “And it’s a good idea to get out of here for a while, I think.”

“Well, it’s nearly five, so we can leave whenever,” Hinata casts a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall as he speaks, confirming his statement.

“Since when is ‘whenever’ a measurement of time?” Nanami asks, laughing faintly as she grabs a jacket that had previously gone unseen, considering it for a moment before shrugging it on. “Are you going to take us out somewhere fancy, too?”

Her teasing tone only makes him smile as he lets Komaeda slip past him and back out the door, grabbing his keys as he follows behind. “No, I was thinking of something even better, you know, like pizza.”

Surprisingly, Komaeda giggles quietly in front of him, turning back to lean against the brick wall that encircles the apartment building while he waits for Nanami to catch up. “Pizza is definitely considered gourmet, you know. Oh, Nanami-san, do you want this back?”

“Hm? Sure,” The girl takes a moment to zip up her jacket before joining him against the wall, taking back her phone and pausing as she looks at it. “Wait, I have an idea. Hinata-kun, would you come here?”

Raising an eyebrow, Hinata steps forward to rest against Nanami’s other side, staring down curiously as she brings up a camera app and then stands forward on her toes to match their height. “Make a wish,” she says, snapping a quick picture of the three. “Or, something like that.”

///

By the time they get back to his house, it’s almost completely dark out, though with the lights from the city reflecting off of the freshly fallen snow it’s easy enough to see. Hinata shivers as he steps from his car for the second time that day, pulling his coat closer to his body to try and protect from the cold night wind.

In a few more moments he unlocks the door and is greeted by soft light and warm air, to which he soaks in gratefully as he removes his jacket and lets the other two pass. After a second’s thought he retrieves his phone, glancing briefly at the alert message on the screen before the realization behind the notification icon hits him.

Hinata mumbles out an apology as he taps the screen and brings the phone to his ear, sighing as Kirigiri’s voice plays over the speaker. She doesn’t say much, and what she does say he had already been expecting.

_“There’s something I would like to talk with you about. However, I’d prefer to meet in person.”_

She lists off the address of a coffee shop somewhere in town and a time to match, and he merely hopes he’ll remember it without having to listen to the message again. Nanami gazes at him curiously as he re-pockets his phone and runs his hand through his hair.

“Is something bothering you, Hinata-kun?” she asks, tilting her head just the slightest bit. Hinata glances at her, and then at Komaeda, only reinforcing their presence to satisfy his mind. It doesn’t do anything to take away his newly forming headache, but at least he could attempt to relax for the evening.

“Nothing, just…” he pauses, arching his shoulders into a small shrug.

Nanami taps her fingers against her chin in his silence, waiting a few seconds for him to continue where he left off. When he doesn’t, she hums in thought, not at all phased by his difficulty communicating around the two of them. “Can I use your shower?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s the first door on the left down the hall,” Hinata replies to the sudden question, raising an eyebrow as she crosses the room to where he had directed. “Don’t you need a change of clothes?”

The girl doesn’t seem to hear him as he gets no response, but he doesn’t bother trying again. Komaeda hasn’t said a word since they walked through the door, and so Hinata instead settles on the couch and pats the seat next to him. “Come sit, Komaeda.”

The man gives him a look that doesn’t particularly say much, landing next to him and bringing his knees up to his chest. He seems much more relaxed than he had been previously, but even as they share each other’s presence once again he seems hesitant to start conversation.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hinata asks once he’s comfortable, taking the initiative. The sound of the water from down the hall sounds distantly in the background, and Komaeda gazes at him with something that faintly seems like longing.

“Hm? Of course,” is the murmured reply.

“I don't know if you wanted me to see this,” Hinata bites his lip, unsure of how to phrase the question, but curiosity had been eating him ever since he had seen the discolored mark on the other’s pale skin. “But... that scar on your side, what happened?”

At first, he wonders if the question was a bad topic to land on, as Komaeda doesn’t respond with his usual demeanor. He tries to hastily apologize before the white haired man shifts his position to grab at the seam of his shirt, lifting it just high enough to uncover the scar in question. “…You mean this, right?”

It’s still the same mark as before, but seeing it causes his stomach to churn uncomfortably. It’s just another reminder to how much had changed between them, and how little he really knew.

“The truth is,” Komaeda continues, with his normal soft smile. “Some drunken fool didn't like the way I spoke to him.”

“You- what?” Hinata pauses in his examination of the other, looking back up at him with slight confusion. He knew Komaeda had seen him looking at the mark before, and the reaction the other had had was subtle, but noticeable all the same. He had felt like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and to see Komaeda brushing it off now was not what he had been expecting.

“You were expecting something more serious, weren't you? I'm sorry to disappoint.” As if sensing his confusion, Komaeda leans back with a light laugh.

“Ah- that's... I'm just glad it wasn't,” Hinata mumbles, diverting his gaze out of embarrassment. “Still. What did you do?”

“About what?” Komaeda looks at him quizzically, tilting his head to the side as if considering the question, and Hinata wonders if he’s doing it just to embarrass him further.

“People usually don’t just casually walk away when they’re stabbed,” Hinata replies with a huff, though he can’t stop the worry from creeping into his voice. Even just visualizing Komaeda ending up in that kind of situation is uncomfortable; he had always been the one to go to extreme lengths to keep out of trouble, yet trouble always had a way of finding him.

“I suppose not,” Komaeda says, shrugging it off as casually as if he had been talking about a paper-cut. “I just made it home and had it bandaged. Don’t worry about it, Hinata-kun. It was a long time ago.”

Hinata lets out a breath, leaning his chin on his hand as Komaeda plays with the hem of fabric sheepishly. “Yeah, fine. Still, I can’t imagine you getting into a fight.”

“Hey, don’t give me that look!” Komaeda holds up his hands defensively, only backing up the idea of his fragileness with the action. “I know, I know, I’m weak and I have terrible stamina. But you’d be surprised at what adrenaline can do.”

///

Nanami returns a few minutes after the fact with her hair still dripping and her previous clothes hastily thrown back on. She doesn’t seem to mind spending the rest of the night in the wrinkled outfit, but even so she gives in easily when Hinata offers to let her borrow some of his own for the night.

“I see your fashion sense hasn’t changed,” Komaeda comments when he hands her an old tee and a pair of shorts.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that supposed to mean?” Hinata looks at him over his shoulder, not bothering to keep the skepticism out of his voice. “You’re wearing three layers of clothing and that’s not exclusively limited to winter, is it?”

“I don’t mind,” Nanami cuts in, a small smile playing at her lips as she watches their exchange. “They’re comfortable.”

They fall into a bout of comfortable silence after that, relapsing back into their old-time habits of curling up together on the couch and pointing out the flaws in old and new movies alike. It’s a strangely comforting routine, Hinata thinks, overly reminiscent of the days they had before.

Even after all this time, Komaeda still predicts the plots of the mystery movies before they end, and Nanami still falls asleep during horror movies while Hinata himself tries not to let the cheesy gore get to him.

Time passes quickly and sooner or later the TV is quiet enough to be nothing more than a distant buzz, only providing white noise as they sleepily revel in each other’s company. Hinata is unaware of the doze he apparently fell into until Komaeda shifts next to him, startling him awake with the movement.

“Where are you going?” He hears Nanami murmur, but judging from her voice she had also been awake.

“Ah… nowhere, really. I’m just tired,” he replies softly, unaware of Hinata’s groggy sense of being conscious. After hearing that, he moves away from Komaeda as he raises his arms in a stretch, trying to chase away the uncomfortable feelings of falling asleep on a couch with two other people.

“We could go to bed if you wanted,” he says, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well. Again. It’s late.”

“If you want,” Nanami says, her voice quiet. She looks ready to fall over right there, and so Hinata rises with a stretch until his back makes a satisfying pop.

“Didn’t you say this was a sleepover, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asks, his smile only partly visible with the way his head is turned. “We should do what we used to when we stayed at your house.”

Of course, he knows what Komaeda’s referring to. When they were younger, every time they slept over together they would spend a large amount of time gathering blankets and pillows and creating forts to sleep in while they watched movies and played games. They even held mini competitions to see who could make the best one with no help, and Hinata dimly remembers always losing. He didn’t expect Komaeda to even bring it up, but the fact that he does is pleasant.

“You’re serious?” Hinata asks, keeping his tone light. “And you’re twenty-three, aren’t you?”

Komaeda frowns then, his expression flickering darkly. For a moment, Hinata’s unsure of whether or not he actually offended him, but the feeling is pushed to the back of his mind when Komaeda stands to his full height, placing his hands on his hips. “Yes, so? What's your point? It’ll be fun. Don’t you agree, Nanami-san?”

“Yes… And if you don’t think so, then I guess I’ll just have to steal your bed. Which means you two can sleep on the floor,” Nanami replies, blinking a few times to rid the haze from her eyes. Her words are playful, though Hinata knows she would stay true to her word.

“But I’ll be on the floor either way!” He complains loudly, thinking of how uncomfortable it would be with the cold hard floor beneath him.

Nanami merely smiles at him, resting her chin on her palm. “You won’t be alone, though.”

“After all,” Komaeda chimes in, and Hinata knows he’s done for with the two of them staring at him like that. “You're the one who suggested a _sleepover_ in the first place.”

“Okay, okay. Wait here,” he says, throwing up his hands in defeat while turning down the hall to the closet where the extra blankets are kept. Grabbing as many as he can hold, he returns down the hall and drops them gracefully on the floor.

It doesn’t take long to get them spread out comfortably, and Nanami immediately claims one side. Neither of them put up a fight, and she seems pleased as she grabs a blanket to wrap around herself. Komaeda lies down next to her, leaving enough space so as not to threaten her newly formed territory.

Sleeping on the floor doesn’t seem especially comfortable, but they all know it’s more for the nostalgia anyways. Hinata doesn’t find it in himself to complain about the cold with his friends so content, and so he shuts off the light and joins them. He falls into a fitful sleep soon after.

///

The second time Hinata wakes up, he’s only dimly aware of his surroundings. His heart is beating fast and his entire body feels cold, though his hair is beginning to stick with his forehead with sweat.

“Hinata-kun?”

The voice is nothing more than a whisper, and with difficulty Hinata registers it as Komaeda’s. The white haired boy is sitting up, his worried expression just barely visible in the dim light that passes through the window.

“Are you okay? I didn't want to wake you, but you were talking in your sleep,” he continues, his words stringing together with a certain weariness. It makes Hinata wonder how much time it had been since Komaeda had had a decent rest, and if he had slept recently at all. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare, so…”

“I'm- It's- I'm fine. Don't worry about it.” Truth be told, Hinata couldn’t even remember what he had been dreaming about, and only the few traces of anxiety were left now that he was conscious.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Hinata answers, though from the frown he receives it’s obvious Komaeda isn’t satisfied with the answer. “I just... haven't been sleeping.”

“Where’s-“ He trails off when he glances behind Komaeda to where the blurry form of Nanami rests, still comfortably asleep. She’s snoring lightly, unaware of their conversation as her chest rises and falls. “Oh.”

Hinata runs a hand through his hair while looking back down at himself, the uncomfortable feeling still remaining. It was a routine he was used to, but it never got any easier.

“It’s snowing,” Komaeda’s quiet voice rings out again, and this time he’s looking out the window to where the white flakes drift down in small clumps. The tranquil scene is like a picture out of a book, but it only causes him to shiver.

“It has been,” he replies.

“It's pretty, isn't it?” Komaeda looks back at him then, his expression unreadable and his hair falling into his eyes. Hinata hums in agreement.

They sit in silence watching the snow fall for so long Hinata wonders if Komaeda’s fallen asleep sitting up, but then he moves, leaning closer. “You know, I'm glad I get to be here with the two of you,” he says, voice dropping even lower.

“Me too,” Hinata says, not sure what to make of the situation.

Komaeda lets out a breath and lays back down, his face concealed as he pulls the blanket closer around himself. Hinata doesn’t move from his position, watching his breathing even out for what feels like half an hour.

“Komaeda?” he calls finally, his voice sounding hoarse.

He doesn’t get a reply, and so he lays awake for the remainder of the night, staring up at the dull ceiling, counting each rise and fall of his chest and each heartbeat that sounds in his ears. The headlights of a passing car filter through the window, casting a stray beam of light against the ceiling before being extinguished by the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dammm look at that bad pacing plot management and update time  
> thanks for sticking with me for so long -decompose


End file.
